Obviously satisfied that he had gotten through to me, he continued, “Now, Jon, I’m not going to argue with you over the merits of your dream world versus reality. I’m in favor of goodness and mercy and justice for all, and I’m opposed to selfishness, wickedness, and evil of all varieties. In spite of all that, I’m going to deal with the unpleasant reality of 1976, not escape into some dream world of the future.”
There was a silence now as Karl let me think over what he had just said.
I thought about the points he had made concerning sudden personality changes and running away from unpleasant reality, and I had to admit to myself that they scared me a little, too. However, I was still convinced that for me there was no going back to the Jon Lake who existed prior to my dreams of 2150. I was committed to exploring my dream world of the future to its conclusion whatever that might be. Now, how could I get Karl to accept this?
“All right, Karl,” I said finally. “I concede your points. Maybe I am going insane. Maybe I am running away from the unpleasant reality of my Ph.D. grind. But, truth can be demonstrated sooner or later. If I can learn to develop Macro powers such as clairvoyance, telepathy, and so on, then I should be able to demonstrate them to you here in 1976. Right?”
Karl looked surprised and said, “Are you saying that if you dream you’ve developed these powers, and can’t demonstrate them to my satisfaction while you are awake, that you’ll give up this massive psychotic delusion?”
“Yes, Karl,” I answered. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.
“I’m willing to put my dream world to the test, and if it fails to pass this test, to hell with it.”
“Now you’re talking sense,” Karl said, patting me on the shoulder with smiling relief. “Since you’re willing, to let me be the final judge in your test of reality I can hardly object to your continuing interest in these weird dreams. I’m convinced, however, that it won’t be long before your dream world fails your test of reality.”
By unspoken agreement we dropped the subject and talked of other things for the rest of the afternoon. Then we went out for dinner followed by a movie featuring the youth drug culture.
On the way back to our apartment we discussed the tremendous increase in drug usage among our generation and agreed that this was certainly a desperate attempt to escape from, or find something better than, the unpleasant reality of our very micro society.
Later, while lying in my bed waiting for sleep to come and, hopefully, transport me to the future, I wondered if my motivation to dream of a beautiful future was similar to the motivation of those who use drugs.
It made me uncomfortable and I called across the room to where Karl was lying and, once again, repeated my promise to forget about my dream world if it didn’t pass our test.
He expressed his satisfaction with this agreement, saying that now we had it licked.
I was still reassuring myself when I, fell asleep.
CHAPTER 6: Jon’s Alpha and Rana
Once again I awakened to the voice of Central Information. I immediately interrupted to ask how long I had been asleep. But this time C.I. said it could not give me this information since the Alpha room chair was not designed to be a body‑mind monitor, as were the chairs in the library.
I decided, however, that since Carol was not back yet I must have, once again, returned within only seconds of 2150 time.
I decided to ask C.I. some of my troublesome questions.
“You know, C.I., all of this switching back and forth in time is playing havoc with my life in 1976. My brother thinks I’m heading for some kind of psychotic break. When he presented his arguments I had to admit that he made a strong case.
“We decided to settle the matter once and for all by devising a test of the reality of 2150. If I can develop some of the Macro powers you described and demonstrate them back in 1976, then Karl, and I, will accept 2150 as reality. If not, then we’ll just accept my ‘dreams’ as a massive escape device which I designed to relieve the tensions created by uninterrupted years of study.
“Tell me, is it possible for me to develop some of these Macro powers, and if I do, will I still have them when I go back to 1976?”
C.I. answered with one unqualified word, “Yes.”
“Is it possible for me to stay in 2150 permanently?” I asked next.
“Yes, if you attain third‑level awareness you can stay in 2150 permanently,” was her answer.
“When will that be?”
“That depends entirely on your desire, and your belief that it is possible.”
“Well, how long will it be before I develop some Macro powers?” I asked.
C.I.’s response could have been a recording of her previous one, for she said, “That depends entirely on your desire, and your belief that it is possible.”
Thinking that perhaps some mechanical failure had caused this identical response I asked C.I. my name to see if her “tape” was stuck.
Her response was, “Jon Lake is your 1976 name. Your 2150 name is Jon 8‑927 since there have been seven other Jons born in Delta 927.”
“How long will it be before I develop some Macro powers?” I persisted.
“That depends entirely on your desire, and your belief that it is possible,” was still the response.
While I was disappointed in not being able to find out how long it would take me to develop some of the Macro powers, I was delighted that they could be demonstrated back in 1976, and kind of tickled somewhere inside to hear my 2150 identification.
The knowledge that I could stay permanently in 2150 if I did attain third‑level awareness brought me deep pleasure and relief. Yet there was something unanswered that bothered me. It was my concern for my body back in 1976.
I asked C.I., “If I reach third level awareness and stay permanently here in 2150, what will happen to my body back in 1976?”
C.I., who was a woman of few words, said simply, “It will die.”
I was trying to cope with this prospect of dying and living all at the same time when Carol returned with my Macro identity bracelet.
“Here’s your own personal mib, Jon,” Carol said with a smile as she slipped it onto my wrist.
I marveled at its lack of weight for in spite of its multiple functions of timepiece, nutrition dispenser, heart and brain wave monitor, and communications cell (for those with limited telepathic power), it weighed considerably less than my 1976 wristwatch.
Carol explained that it was waterproof and practically indestructible. When I asked about its power source, she replied that all equipment, from mibs to their largest transportation vehicles and servo‑mechanisms, receive their power from what she called a Central Information power broadcasting center.
I asked her if this was an atomic power center, and she responded with an emphatic denial, explaining that atomic wastes had contributed greatly to the pollution problems of micro man. Then she explained how cosmic radiation was combined with the forces created by the movement of the earth. These were captured, reactivated, reflected and amplified by a crystal, then broadcast, creating a central power source. Power was obtained, through electro‑acoustical tuning to this energy source.
Once this had been accomplished, man was no longer dependent on any other power source and the world’s fuel pollution problems were over.
When I asked more about the crystal and how it worked, Carol said that the tunics we wore employed a very similar crystal structure and process in miniature.
She went on to tell me how they had learned to recycle and use all waste products so that the planet Earth was the cleanest in recorded history. I remembered the sparkling clarity and sweetness of the air of 2150 and tried to imagine rivers, lakes, and oceans free of refuse and wastes. Carol asked C.I. to show us pictures of the Earth as it existed in 2150.
I spent the next few minutes looking at an Earth transformed into a garden of Eden. No longer the vast ugly oil slicks on our waters. No longer the dirty yellow air or the deadly unseen ga
ses saturating our atmosphere. No longer the ugly sprawling cities functioning as planetary sewers. All of micro man’s ugly slough had been removed.
“How did we ever clean it all up?” I asked Carol.
She smiled and said, “It wasn’t difficult for Macro man. Just as it was inevitable that micro man would turn his world into an open cesspool, it was also inevitable that Macro man would turn this same world into an earthly paradise.”
“You see,” she went on, “the soul of micro man evolves into Macro man. Then the adult cleans up after the child. We must not forget that we were all once children once the very same micro beings who fought and polluted and destroyed everything, including our micro selves.
“We don’t condemn micro man,” she said, “for that would be to condemn our own childhood, which would force us to forget it. We don’t want to forget our past because we don’t want to have to repeat it.”
I admired Carol’s strong convictions concerning personal responsibility, but I asked, “Can you really remember your past lives?”
“Yes, of course,” she replied calmly. “I can remember living as a man during your 20th century. Planetary pollution was the major cause of my death in the 1990s.”
I started to say something, but she interrupted me by saying that when I was ready to remember past lives I would be given the help I needed, then I would more fully understand the truth of reincarnation and karma.
Then she changed the subject by asking me if I was familiar with how the timepiece portion of my mib worked according to metric time.
I told her that I remembered C.I. explaining the metric time system to me as part of an answer to one of my questions, but I wasn’t too sure of it. So we spent a few moments reviewing metric time, with C.I. providing helpful illustrations and charts.
I won’t use this journal to present all the intricacies of the metric time system. However, briefly, the 2150 calendar year began in the spring with the vernal equinox and was divided into ten months of 100 days each. A metric day was approximately 8.6 1976 hours and was divided into ten metric hours which would have approximately 51.8 1976 minutes each [see C.I. Data Excerpts].
As I was adjusting to 100 minutes in an hour and 100 seconds in a minute, Carol suggested that it was time to meet the other Alpha members in person. We found them sitting in the circle of chairs at our end of the common room.
The most unnerving thing to me, without the Macro power of telepathy, was the complete silence which greeted us as we joined the circle. The eight minds probed my own, which felt powerless to resist.
I tried to return their eye contact but found myself repeatedly lowering my eyes self‑consciously.
Alan, our Alphar, took my left hand and placed his right hand firmly on my cheek. His eyes engaged mine silently for a few seconds, then he said, “Welcome to our Alpha, Jon. I’m Alan Six. Forgive us for not speaking sooner. It is our custom to meet first with our eyes and minds, then with our touch, and lastly with our voices, if that seems desirable.
“Soon you will develop the Macro power of telepathy, which will make it easier for you. You’ll still have another important barrier to overcome, though, before you’ll be comfortable with our traditional affectionate greeting.”
“I noticed,” he continued, “that when I touched you your aura retracted. That, of course, indicates that you’re uncomfortable sharing through touch.
“This may be a reflection of your culture’s archaic taboo against men touching one another. However, it could be an indication of your submission to astrological influences. You’ve read enough astrology to know that most Virgos prefer that people stay their distance. This would be a cripplingly divisive astrological influence. It should be overcome through mental control and practice.
“Whichever influence is causing this retraction response will be overcome soon, and we’ll all help you do it. As we introduce ourselves, keep in mind that we intend no harm, and see if you can give something of yourself to the greeting. Imagine the atoms that make up your being reaching lovingly, joyously out toward this person you’re greeting. This establishes electro-molecular paths which will make it easier for us to communicate with you.”
“Let’s start with my Alpha mate, which brings me to another point, Jon. You’ll find that we, in 2150, present ourselves to you, as opposed to being ‘introduced’ by a third party. We find it more honest, more clear, and simpler. Perhaps most importantly, it permits people to communicate at will anytime, anywhere, for any reason, without the cumbersome burden of archaic formalities. We just engage eyes, extend our hands, pronounce our names, and communicate our thoughts either telepathically or verbally.”
As he said this, he turned and gestured to the beautiful girl sitting next to him. Her sweet face broke into a smile that was reflected by the sparkle in her eyes.
She said, “I’m Bonnie. Welcome to our Alpha, Jon.” Kneeling beside me, she took my left hand with hers while pressing her right hand warmly against my cheek. She was back in her chair before I had recovered; then she gestured to the handsome dark‑eyed young giant sitting beside her.
As he approached I prepared to stand up, feeling self‑conscious about the fact that I had not paid Bonnie this courtesy.
“Please don’t stand, Jon. I’m Adam. You’ll find we, in 2150, do not burden our lives with unnecessary social protocol to ‘show respect’ or to ‘honor’ one person above another. We each know our own value and presume. mutual respect without formalities to proclaim it.”
Lost for what to say, I played it safe and simply said, “Thank you,” using my voice for the first time since I joined the circle. “You’re very kind. Looks like I have a lot to learn.” Gingerly I returned his gesture of affection.
Then Adam’s Alpha mate, Nancy, was kneeling before me introducing herself while I yielded to the depths of her liquid brown eyes.
This was followed by meeting a smiling David, who possessed the shoulders of a Hercules, and his Alpha mate, Diana, whose body was the smallest, at six feet one, but in magnificent feminine proportions.
Then I met the Goliath of our Alpha, six‑foot‑nine‑inch Steve, whose giant body was balanced by a face that radiated a paradox of mischief and patient kindness.
The last member was vivacious Joyce, with lovely green eyes and dark auburn hair which made me wish they wore their hair longer in 2150.
Perhaps the most striking physical qualities were their penetrating, all‑knowing eyes, their short‑hair, their giant statures, which made me at six feet three the shortest male by two inches, and their remarkable physical beauty. Like idealized Greek statues, the women were lovely and the men were handsome. However, unlike the 20th century, where physical beauty was rare and sought after, no one here was self‑conscious about his appearance. Carol had told me that they valued the beauty and power of the mind more than that of the body.
I remembered, however, that C.I. had stated that the body reflected the mind and the mind reflected the spirit. So I knew they would not ignore or take lightly their physical health and beauty.
I was surprised at how warmly and positively they responded to me and I to them. Overcoming my typical 1970s aversion to touching was coming along nicely, partly, I suspect, due to the fact that I honestly liked them all, and not with the usual superficial type of regard that I generally felt on first meetings back in the 20th century. It was surprising, but I felt a deep personal involvement with all of them. Somehow they radiated a quality of trust and positive regard that made it impossible for me to feel indifferent or defensive. I could relax with them, for they were my friends already-my very best of friends.
Someone entered the room, and I turned to find an absolutely perfect, beautifully sculptured man. I had thought of Greek statues of women, and here was one of a male, vibrantly alive. His tunic was a glistening white with the faintest suggestion of iridescent colors playfully showing here and there.
I wanted to burst with joy just looking at him and feeling his incre
dible strength, his power.
He took my hand and, placing his huge but gentle hand on my face said, “I feel your thought, Jon. And the joy is returned. It’s so good to have you with us at last.” He squeezed my hand affectionately. “Happy growing, Jon! We are one!” And was gone before I could respond.
“What happened? Where did he go? Who is he?” my questions almost tripped over one another.
“That was Eli, our Ktar. He, like other level tens, travels about on thought. He had to get back to what you think of as the planet Uranus, where he’s been very busy helping clear up some problems in their magnetic field. This leaves him very little time to spend here on earth, but he did want very much to greet you and welcome you to 2150.”
*******
I groped mentally for a frame of reference into which I could fit what I had just heard.
“You mean that he just thinks himself from planet to planet?”
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